


Gentlemanly Virtue

by silksieve



Category: George Bernard Shaw - Pygmalion
Genre: M/M, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2008, recipient:serenissima
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-21
Updated: 2010-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-06 13:05:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silksieve/pseuds/silksieve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or: What Happened Afterwards</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gentlemanly Virtue

No one came to talk to me after Mother and Eliza left for church. I expect this was some damned notion of Mother's to punish me for making a scene in her parlour earlier. If she hadn't wanted scenes, then she shouldn't have squirreled Eliza away like that, should she? Or had me for a son.

At any rate, I decided 'round noon that I had had enough of my own company and headed back for Wimpole street, fully expecting Eliza to be waiting, soft-eyed, with Berkshire and Stilton in hand. When Mrs. Pearce told me that nobody had stopped by, I felt a twinge of disappointment, but then I remembered that everyone had gone to church to see Doolittle married. Likely weddings took a bit more time than the average church morning. She'd come back sooner or later.

The afternoon progressed, and still no one showed. By the time that Mrs. Pearce brought in the tea tray, I had to admit I was in something of a state. The wedding was lasting bloody long, for one thing.

"Ah, just in time for tea!" Pickering said, as he walked through the door, handing his hat off to Mrs. Pearce.

"Pickering!" I exclaimed. "There's no ham and cheese!"

"I beg your pardon?" Pickering said, looking bewildered.

"Ham and cheese!" I said loudly. "She didn't bring me ham and cheese!"

"I'll be leaving now," announced Mrs. Pearce, and shut the door.

"Mrs. Pearce?" ventured Pickering after she'd gone.

"No, not Mrs. Pearce!" I said. "Why on earth would Mrs. Pearce be buying ham and cheese? No, Eliza! Wretched creature hasn't come by at all, even though I was very specific. Ham and the cheese, not to mention a tie from Eale and Binman's, and their best gloves, too. I need those gloves. Why is that blasted wedding taking so damned long, anyway? You've left, I don't see why she can't."

Pickering was silent for a moment. "Well, Henry," he said at last. "Filial duty aside, given that the wedding party ended around two this afternoon, I don't suppose it's occurred to you that Eliza might not be coming?"

"Well, of course she's coming!" I exclaimed, feeling irritated. "Where else would she go? Her little tantrum earlier notwithstanding, she can't stay with Mother forever. She has a home where she belongs already."

Pickering shrugged. "This is only my opinion, mind you, but I do think that Miss Doolittle will remain at your mother's or elsewhere, indefinitely. Her earlier tantrum, as you put it, didn't seem so to me at all. She appeared quite determined to be independent of you, of us, and I can't say that I blame her. We have been a bit abominable to her at times. No, she sounded quite reasonable when I spoke with her at the wedding party--very eager to be her own self."

"Reasonable!" I scoffed. "Her own self!" I jabbed at Pickering with my finger. "Her own self is mine! I created a diamond out of ashes, and she thinks that she can simply steal it away like an apple on a grocer's cart!"

Pickering grabbed my wrist, halting its movement. "And therein lies her objection. If you would only cease to view people as scientific experiments..."

"And Mother egging on Eliza!" I continued, talking over him. "After all the effort I went through to turn her into a lady, it turns out that she's nothing but a _woman_. Nothing but trouble from cradle to grave."

Pickering coughed. I suspected that he was hiding a laugh. He was still holding my wrist, so I shrugged a bit, and he let go. "Not everyone shares your opinion, and thank goodness for that," he said. "Come now, Henry. The human race should die out without our better halves. They turn the wheels of society, propagate strength, and invent good. That they put up with us bumbling males at all is something of a minor miracle. Why, your own mother is a saint for bearing with one such as you! Surely you can see that womanhood is not the evil you pretend it is."

"Mother is not an exception to the rule," I retorted. "Just think of what happened today!" I glanced at him. "Obviously you share my opinion, or you would have become leg-shackled yourself long ago. As far as gentlemanly virtue goes, you seem to have a surfeit. I'm sure women have beaten a path to your door. The fact that you haven't associated with one particular female demonstrates that you are just as averse to their influence as I am."

Pickering coughed again. "Yes, well, life in the army sometimes does preclude a wife."

"There are plenty of men of business or law or, yes, even the military who would disagree. Their time is not so precious as to avoid the so-called pull of hearth and home. No, it's plainly apparent that your way of life is one of clear choice."

Pickering said softly, "Perhaps choice. Or preference. Or neither, and it simply _is_."

After pondering that cryptic statement for a moment, I chanced upon his meaning.

I was surprised, to tell the truth, but not shocked. Obviously, the company of men was far to be preferred. If Pickering had the good sense to form his intimate relationships with men, then he was even cleverer than I, and that was saying something. And, equally obviously, his tenure with the army in India would have allowed him to live as he liked with minimal interference from idiotic societal judgments. It all made perfect sense. I said as much aloud.

Pickering laughed and shook his head. "Only you, Henry."

I was indignant. "What?" I exclaimed. "It's a manifest truth. You just told me so yourself."

He shook his head again. "No," he said. "I meant, only you would be able to react with such aplomb, and beyond that, _approval_."

"If something is perfect, it would be idiotic, not to mention futile, to suggest it would work otherwise."

Pickering was silent for a moment. Then, almost as if he didn't want to raise the point, he said, "And what about you? No thoughts to hearth, home, and companionship?"

I snorted. "I thought I had made that perfectly clear. There will never be _room_ in my life for the meddlesome nature of a woman of any kind." I kept trying to tell my mother the same thing, but she always seemed determined to ignore me.

"Higgins, you know you're a pure genius, but in interpersonal matters, you are something of an ass, not to mention remarkably slow," said Pickering, a hint of impatience in his voice.

"I'm insulted!" I said. "Anyone can be as he likes, meddling or middling, it's all the same to me. I've never told anyone to change. People are always coming to me _asking_ to change. Of course, if they prefer mediocrity, they had better not remain around me, but otherwise, I don't give a damn. Anyway, you knew what I was going to say before I even said it, so why did you ask in the first place if you were going to be so disagreeable about my answer?"

"Never mind," said Pickering. He paused for another moment, and said in a softer voice, "I was merely wondering, as you possess no skill for the subtle, if you had, yourself, ever considered the possibility that companionship for you may not lie with the feminine but rather the masculine."

I blinked at him. "Well, no," I said slowly. "Although one wonders why I hadn't thought of it before. My work keeps me very busy, as you know..."

"Perhaps you just hadn't found anybody interesting enough yet. It _is_ a rather personal decision, after all," Pickering said. Had he been standing this close to me before? It was getting a little hard to breathe. I made a mental note to remind Mrs. Pearce to open more windows in the future.

"Henry," Pickering said.

"Yes," I said slowly. My mouth felt a little dry.

"Henry," he said, "As brilliant as I find your theories, as interesting as I find your research, and as intriguing a personality as I find you, don't you wonder why I remain here? Why I choose to live in this house and spend as much time in your company as I may? Why I find the prospect of debating with you into the night a far more thrilling experience than any to be found in London?"

I somehow found myself against the bookcase and Pickering a mere step away.

"It's not only companionship and intellectual challenge that is to be found in one another. There's this, too," he leaned in, speaking so softly and so closely that I could feel his breath upon my cheek. "Are you not curious?"

And with that, his mouth was on mine.

His lips were dry, and his moustache tickled the sensitive area above my upper lip, but they were pleasant feelings indeed, and I found myself responding to the gentle pressure.

"Well, that was quite an interesting experience," I said, rather breathlessly as we parted. We looked at each other for a moment. "Let me try that again."

There was heat in the kiss this time, and I could feel the warmth of his tongue caressing the inside my mouth. And then there were no more questions, because the answers were all patently clear. This is what I had been missing, what I needed. Further thought flew from my head. My brain was addled. I could not think of anything except to feel more, to touch more, to know more.

I had only begun to counter in kind when the door banged open. Blast! We sprang apart.

Someone gave a very un-ladylike snort. "I leave you two alone for half a day," Eliza said impudently, although I detected a distinct smugness in the tone as well.

The devil.

She distracted me from my dark suspicions by pointing her nose at the ceiling and announcing, "I've brought your silly ham and cheese."

"So, you've come back, eh? I knew it," I told the sly baggage, not in the least fooled by her nonchalant air.

She ignored me and continued on, "Also, your slippers are on the wrong feet. Make sure you wear them in this weather; you'll catch your death of cold otherwise." Ah, my Galatea. How she abused me. A delicate Valkyrie who could call the storm clouds at any moment.

"Nonsense," I said. "Never been ill a day in my life."

She sniffed once, straightened her gloves, and turned around to leave. "And where are you off to?" I demanded.

"Freddy Eynsford Hill is taking me for a stroll in Kensington Gardens. We're going to look at the statues," she said.

"What!" I exclaimed. "You are not to go about with that Eynsford Hill boy! He's an utter rogue!"

"Bosh," she said. "I expect I should be able to teach _him_ a thing or two."

"What!" I shouted again, louder. "Nobody is to teach anybody anything, do you understand me? Where is that blasted Freddy anyway?"

A top hat peeped around the door frame. "Yes, sir?" came a timid voice.

I was not fooled. I marched over, and pulled the boy in by his collar. "There will be no teaching," I said in a rather ferocious tone. I think I scared him, poor lad. "You are to take Eliza round the park once and deliver her straight back here." Pickering coughed. "Straight back to my mother's, and not a minute past six, is that understood?"

Eliza gasped. "That is entirely unreasonable of you! You have no more say over what I do, and I should thank you to keep your edicts to yourself. I'm going with Freddy and that will be that. Come, Freddy!" So saying, she pulled him out the door and slammed it for good measure. There was a second, echoing slam of the front door as they left the house.

"Not a minute past six!" I shouted out the window. A few passers-by stopped to stare, but I paid them no mind. I spied Freddy speaking to Eliza with quite the earnest expression and felt quite satisfied that at least one of them had received my message.

I turned from the window and saw the packages Eliza had left on the table.

I felt a small welling of happiness, although I couldn't say whether it was relief or simple reveling in the fact in that I was, once again, correct. She had returned and she would again. Children could never stay from home for too long, even after they'd flown the nest.

Perhaps my pleasure had something to do with Pickering, whose moustache tickled as he murmured in my ear. "We forgot to teach Eliza about rude interruptions," he said. "We'll remedy that. Tomorrow. For now there are other things that need our earnest attention,"

In any case, I couldn't resist a small grin.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my lovely betas sprinkle, hangingfire, Dessie, Bookwormsarah, and loligo for all the wonderful nit and Brit picking. That said, all mistakes are my own.


End file.
